If I'd never met you
by Lou Storgaard
Summary: 30 years after the car-accident that never happened, Stella and her mother are in New York for an art exhibition, when fate wants her to meet a certain lonely detective. M/S AU oneshot.


**Another One-shot in my writing improvement project, once again thanks to Lily Moonlight for the help.**

**In the bits where the story ****appears to be Stella POV the italic writing is Greek.**

**Enjoy, and please tell me what you think.**

**Lou.**

Mac Taylor sighed. He had entered his apartment only 20 minutes earlier and he didn't really feel up for going to work again, but on the other hand, what was there to stay at home for?

Sleep certainly wasn't something that came easy for him, but the solitude was much easier to deal with, than the undefined relationship between him and his employees. He hadn't really bothered to get to know them that well, all he needed to know was whether or not they knew how to do their jobs and were loyal to his lab.

Whatever social life he had once had, had been with friends of his late wife. She always had a lot of friends who came over with their husbands or boyfriends or other encounters. But after her death they had stopped, of course they had. There had been calls of condolence, for a few months after 9/11 but he had been more or less relieved when they had stopped. He knew as well as they did that it was something they had all promised themselves they'd do, but hadn't really gotten around to it until something reminded them that they _had to_.

Since then his social life had been none existent. Even though it had been more than 4 years, almost 5 actually, he hadn't really tried that hard to find someone to spend his time with.

There had been a couple of times where a case or something completely random had reminded him of his painful loneliness, and he had dared going on a date that he already knew was doomed beforehand.

He knew his team went out for beers once a week, he had been invited to come along a couple of times by the newest addition to the team, Aiden Burn. But he had always thanked no. It was too late for him to become a part of the group without seeming like the bitter, lonely, imposing boss. Which was probably what he was.

He shook himself from his depressive thought-stream as he stepped out into the summer-evening breeze. It wasn't very late and there were still a lot of people on the street. _Happy people_ he noted with an inward groan as he walked past them, headed for the parking garage that was placed a few blocks over.

By the time he arrived at the crime scene, he was in desperate need for a case to shut his mind off anything outside the job. Meaning he was more than ready to get to business when he was approached by Aiden and Flack.

"We've got a dead guy in an alley." Aiden told him, shrugging towards the alley behind them.

"Man if I had dollar for every time I'd said or heard that one." Flack said, at first oblivious to the warning glare Aiden sent him but soon straightened up defensively

"Could be a drug-buy gone wrong." she continued."But then again druggies don't usually wear a suit worth several hundred dollars."

"We do have a witness." Flack explained. "There's a catch though, she doesn't really speak English."

"You call a translator?" Mac asked, eager to get this case started so he could focus on trace and fingerprints or DNA anything less complicated than his own non-existent social life.

"From what I've gathered through her modest English capabilities, her daughter is fluent in English. She's on her way." Flack explained, before looking to the side where an unfamiliar face was currently talking to one of the officers guarding the scene. "That must be her."

When Mac turned his head, the sight of the woman that was now headed towards them made him stop dead in his tracks. The was something about her, something about the way she confidently let her heels click against the concrete and didn't mind the stares she was receiving from all around her.

Before he had the opportunity to gaze at her any further he reminded himself that he was at work, and had to remain professional. Only there was something about this woman that made it very difficult.

When she reached them she didn't waste a second introducing herself, she just looked Mac straight in the eyes and demanded to know where her mother was, with the most adorable accent.

"Lets take this from the beginning shall we Miss?" Flack asked, apparently he hadn't been struck the same way by this woman.

"Bonasera, Stella." she stated, tapping her fingers against her elbow. "I was told my mother witnessed a crime?"

"Actually, we cant be sure. We're having some language-issues." Flack continued, unaffected by her stubbornness. The conversation however, didn't get any further as the woman Mac guessed to be Miss Bonasera's mother approached her daughter, already firing off sentences in rapid Greek.

The conversation only got more and more heated the longer it lasted. For whatever reason, Mac couldn't stop watching that woman's lips as they formed the foreign words that he had absolutely no idea what meant, but still seemed so incredibly attractive.

The conversation between the two women ultimately ended in the oldest of the two growling something at her daughter before simply leaving.

"I think you'll get more from hiring a translator." Miss Bonasera told them, a few angry Greek words muttered under her breath before she continued. "What happened is none of my damn business. Apparently. But, here's the address of the hotel we live in and our rooms. If it doesn't hurt your investigation I'd suggest you wait till she's cooled off before you question her. Once she has her mind set... Anyhow, I really should be getting back to the hotel."

Mac just nodded still somewhat numb as she turned and walked away from them, unaware of the captivated gaze that was following her.

-o-

The hotel wasn't more than a 10 minute walk from the apparent crime scene, but the trip back seemed to take ages as Stella thought about her argument with her mother. "One of these days..." she promised herself like she had done several times before. "...I'm going to stop living her life."

But when she was finally back at the hotel she instantly started unpacking the bags she had had ready for their flight back to Greece in the morning. The detectives had informed her they would have to stay in town for a while, and she hadn't minded the least bit. She liked New York. Actually, she liked everything that wasn't Naoussa. She was getting tired of her boring, ordinary life.

"_What are you doing?" h_er mother asked, it was plain in her voice that she was still angry with her for 'sticking her nose in other peoples business.'

"_Unpacking. We have to stay in town for a few more days." _Stella informed her mother, she wasn't in the mood for another argument, but she sensed one coming right at her.

"_We cant. I have to be back for the exhibition on Thursday."_

"_Just call the professor and tell him you'll be late because you witnessed a murder. Speaking of which you need to tell detective Taylor what you saw." _Stella demanded, her mind suddenly drifting back to the handsome image of the troubled detective.

"_Detective Taylor, detective Taylor. Why do you have so much faith in him? We just need to get home. You're making things so complicated."_

"_Because he's a detective." _Stella said, catching on to her subconscious lie, that wasn't exactly the whole reason. _"And there's no way we're fleeing the state, to get back in time for an art exhibit."_

Stella offered a heartfelt sigh as her mother left the room in anger, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Why exactly did she have so much faith in that detective?

-o-

It had only been a day since Mac had met that intriguing Greek woman at the crimescene. Stella. He kept repeating her name in his mind. Why was she so different from all of the other women he met in the line of duty?

He knew there was no getting her out of his mind as long as they were still bound to bump into each other during this case, but he wasn't sure he wanted her out of his mind.

He was torn from his musings by the intercom buzzing repeatedly, whoever out there clearly not equipped with a whole lot of patience.

Dragging himself out to answer he wondered who would bother to come by, especially at 9.30pm.

"Yea?" he asked, preoccupied with getting whatever this was over with so he could just go back to being his grumpy old self.

"Stella Bonasera. I need some answers." The fiery Greek demanded, forcing him to hold back a chuckle.

"You know, usually witnesses don't just show up at my door like this."

"I'm not at your door, I'm outside, by the intercom." she informed him. "I still want those answers."

"Fine... Come in." he said, choking back his more rational self. This was most definitely not professional behavior.

He was pretty sure he had his answer by the time he opened the door for her. She was just standing there, casually clad and with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. But she was still so captivating.

"I've just spent the last 3 hours in the police precinct..." She started, as she stepped past him into his apartment. "And yet no one has bothered to explain to me, why my mother was hauled out of her hotel-room in handcuffs."

"It may have something to do with the fact that she's withholding information, obstructing a murder investigation." he explained closing the door behind her somewhat baffled by her straightforward behavior.

"You considered that maybe she didn't see anything?" she asked stepping into the outer edge of his personal space. "She could've easily just found the body."

"I hope you realize that you could be arrested for obstruction of justice as well if you know what it is that she's hiding." he said, trying to divert his attention from her mesmerizing eyes.

"Then I have nothing to worry about. My mother doesn't tell me anything." she said, her eyes suddenly no longer drawing his attention to her as she was busy looking anywhere but at him.

"Yet you went all the way over here to defend her." he countered, for some reason he couldn't understand, trying to get her attention back to him. Now that he wasn't spellbound by her look, he was almost longing to be.

"Wouldn't you?" she asked, her posture at once as proud and stubborn as it had been just seconds before. "To be honest; I am getting tired of standing up for her wherever we go."

"Tell her?"

"Maybe you should go with her back to Greece, stay with her for a couple of weeks..." She threatened, raising an eyebrow at him before an awkward silence lowered over the pair.

"I should probably go." she said, but remained where she was.

"Miss Bonasera..." he started, his heart thumping in his chest at what he was about to do.

"Stella." she corrected.

"Stella... Maybe we could go out and get a cup of coffee somewhere?" he asked, feeling as if he was sinking under her questioning gaze.

"Wouldn't that be unprofessional of you?"

"It was unprofessional of me to let you in." he countered.

"In that case, I'd love to." she told him, walking towards the door without waiting for him to catch up. The shy smile thrown over her shoulder made him force his legs to move, as he realized that the woman he had spent the last few hours dreaming about was actually right in front of him.

-o-

A couple of hours later Mac returned to his apartment. This time it wasn't as much a sigh of depression that escaped him, as it was a sigh of joy. Their late night coffee had turned into a pleasant late-night meal.

They had exchanged stories about their lives, the simple everyday ones. The story about his late wife, or her obvious issues with her mother would wait for a later date. A date that would hopefully come some-time in the near future.

Stella had told him about her life in Greece. Traveling with her mother when she was going to art exhibits all over the world. It seemed that the more she had told him, the more fascinated and intrigued by her he had become.

He couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was about her that made him forget about protocol, but he never wanted this intoxication to end, even though he knew he should make it end. He should at the very least keep it at bay till the investigation was over but then she'd go back to Greece.

Before he could think further about it, his phone drew his attention back to work – he assumed. No one really called him for any other reason.

"Mac... er.. Detective Taylor." Stella's voice sounded through the speaker, she sounded quite rattled. "Someone just attacked me, outside the hotel."

"Are you alright?" he asked, trying to mask the sudden fear that had caught him, even though he barely knew this woman.

"I'm fine." she told him. Despite the relief from hearing her confirm she was alright, he still couldn't calm his rapidly beating heart, the need to see her and confirm for himself that she was actually fine had taken over, even though he barely knew her.

"Call 911 and report it. And I'll be on my way."

-o-

It didn't take him as long as he had expected to get to the hotel, but Don was already there, walking away from Stella, probably after having gotten her statement. She was standing leaned against the wall with her arms crossed, looking slightly shaken.

"Stell.. Miss Bonasera." he exclaimed the minute he was within hearing range, at the moment not caring that anyone could have noticed his slip-up.

"Hey." she said with a sigh as she turned her attention to him. The way she turned her head towards him made a nasty looking cut on her cheek visible. She must have noticed his attention shift as she looked at him with a reassuring smile. "It's fine. Just a cut. He held a knife in my face, accidentally cut me when I fought back."

"Did he say anything?" he asked, well aware that Don had already gotten those answers he just wanted a reason to hang around.

"He wanted me to make sure my mother kept quiet." she explained. "I think I know him, He wore a mask, but I'm sure I've heard his voice somewhere. He had this heavy Greek accent. If he'd just spoken in Greek I know I'd recognize it."

"I'll have a police-detail assigned to protect you, if he's going after you to reach her." he offered, soon realizing how obvious he was being. "When your mother is released we'll have her protected too of course."

"Of course. But no thank you, I'll be fine. And knowing my mother, she wont have it."

"Okay. If you need anything – or anything happens just give me a call." He offered, for once ignoring the little voice in his head that was asking him what the hell he was doing.

"Thanks detective." She said with a flirty look in her eyes before she raked her fingers through her hair, the flirty look fading as a subtle yawn took over. "Can I leave? I could use some sleep."

-o-

Mac had spent that night pacing his office, looking for a distraction from the constant gnawing concern for Stella. What had at first seemed like a fairly standard case had suddenly become very complicated, but it had much more to do with her than with the actual detective-work.

Now, he and Don were in her hotel-room, with a translator, once again trying to get her mother to talk. The elder Bonasera had been released shortly after Stella's attack the night before.

Via the translator Don asked her if she didn't realize that her daughter was attacked because of the information she was withholding. Mac was having a hard time concentrating on the ongoing interrogation, his attention was constantly drawn to Stella, who was sitting quietly on the bed, what appeared to be a drawing pad resting on her legs.

She was just sitting there, chewing thoughtfully on the pencil in between gentle pencil-strokes on the drawing she seemed to be working on.

"That is exactly why she shouldn't be talking to you." The translator said, Stella's mother continuing her speech but the translator didn't get a chance to enlighten us on what was being said before Stella reacted and in turn growled something at her mother.

"_You're unbelievable!" _Stella said, Greek words shot at her mother like daggers, as she got up._"You don't have to tell them anything. I know who you're protecting."_

"_You don't know anything." _Her mother shot back, her words not the least bit less poisonous.

"_It was Tasso Papakota, Wasn't it? I recognized his voice from when I was younger. Was Kosta there too? He had to have been, you wouldn't have protected his brother otherwise."_

When her mother remained silent she shook her head. _"I'm sick of this game." _With those words she left the room, well aware that one of the detectives, preferably detective Taylor, would follow her to find out what just happened.

-o-

Stella had just left her mother in the airport, she had gotten of with a warning instead of the obstuction of justice charge. It had been 3 days, since Tasso Papakota had been arrested for murder, his brother Kosta arrested for accessory to murder. A murder committed to ensure their smuggling business would remain a secret.

Now she was walking down the street, breathing in the not very clean New York air. She had finally stood up to her mother. Told her that she was going to stay in New York for a few more weeks, to see what the City that never sleeps had to offer, even though she knew very well what the city had to offer her; a damn handsome Detective.

She smiled by herself as she sped up, eager to reach that same detective waiting for her just another few feet further down the sidewalk. Yup... she was definitely going to like New York.


End file.
